Little Cousin
by RAPPxheadx26435
Summary: When Roger's strange cousin comes back to New York after an abrupt exit five years ago, will things ever be the same for the two roommates? During the same time as RENT.
1. The Arrival of Kiley and Collins

I gripped onto the leather strap of my bag as I pulled out three quarters for the pay phone. I was planning to spend Christmas with my cousin Roger and his roommate, Mark. We were never on the same terms, no, but I supposed that, considering we were more mature now, it wouldn't be like last Christmas where I jumped off the fire escape. I laughed at my own idiocy and dialed the number of the apartment.

**"SPEEEEEEAK."**

I was greeted by the sound of Mark and Roger's voice. "Hey, guess who? Your little cousin, toss down the key. Sweet." I moved closer to the building and saw Mark standing on the fire escape, and said, "Hey Markus, toss it here!" I stood in an almost baseball position and grabbed the keys as they fell. "Thank you, Markus!"

He shook his head and went back inside. I felt like a little kid on Christmas morning as I ran to the door and up the stairs, unlocking the door. "Merry early Christmas, boys!" I said happily, and was greeted by rolling eyes.

"What do _you_ want, Kiley?" Roger asked in a jokingly bitter way.

"What, I can't spend Christmas with my two favorite boys?!" I dropped my heavy bag and went up to each of them, wrapping my arms around each one in a hug. Roger patted me on the back, and Mark lifted his arms over his head. "Why would you wanna spend Christmas with us? We've never gotten along." Mark said bitterly, sitting on the long metal table. "Well, I wanna patch things up, Marky-kinz. You know... after that day five years ago..."

"Yeah, thank God someone was throwing out their mattress." Roger said, messing with the fuse box. "God, Benny turned off our power... way to go."

"Why would Benny turn off your power?" And then I remembered one of the discussions I had with Mark's parents. "Oh yeah! He moved out and got married, right?" When they nodded and started at me. "I stopped by Marky darling's house. I thought I could catch up there. Oh, your dad says, 'Sorry about Maureen, but c'est la vie, let her be a lesbian, she doesn't know what she's missing.'" I didn't add the fact that he said, "And while you're single, go out with Kiley. She's changed." But I was sure he'd say that tomorrow when he called. And besides, I would've sounded pretty conceited.

"Wow. Go Dad." Mark said bitterly. I looked at Roger, and he shrugged. Since when had Mark always been that bitter? Just then, the phone rang, and the voicemail went off,

**"SPEEEEEEAK."**

"Hey man, it's Collins. Throw down the key. Cool." I grabbed the key off the table and went out on the fire escape.

"Hey Collins! It's Kiley!" I yelled as I tossed down the key. "I'm back!"

"Me, too! I'll be up!" he replied, laughing. "Don't jump!"

I shot a playful scowl at him and went back inside. "So what do you do for fun 'round here, cousin?" I asked Roger, putting my feet up on the arm of the chair I was sitting in.

"We pay rent. Talk to each other. Try to make money. And now that you're in town, lil' cous, you're in on it." Roger replied, putting an arm around my shoulders.

"Alright, I think I like New York. Hell of a lot better than home, anyway." I mumbled, and stood up, looking for a mug. "Got any coffee?"

Mark came up behind me and closed the cabinet I was looking through. "Good luck making it with _no power._" he reminded me, and I turned around and mussed up his hair.

"Thank you, Markus, I never woulda remembered." I said sweetly, and went to put on my jacket and grab some change.

"Where are you going this time of night?" Roger asked, concerned. "I'm going to get coffee, Roger. I'm not a little girl anymore." I walked past him and out the door. "When Collins comes in, tell 'im I said heey boy heey. Ahahahaha!" I laughed at my own joke as I walked down the stairs.

***

Fifteen minutes later, after barely walking five blocks, I found myself sitting alone in a small café, holding a cup of holiday-themed coffee. I had dug through my pocket, looking for spare change to give the hostess a tip, when Mark walked in.

"Hey Markus! Pull up a chair, boy!" I said loudly, and he looked at me, rolled his eyes, and sat down across from me. "What'cha doin' out? Looking for me?"

"Ahah, no." he laughed, almost sadly. "Collins never showed up, so I went out looking for him. Don't worry, I told Roger to take his AZT." he added, and I nodded.

"Good. Want a cuppa? The coffee here's pretty good. But then, I suppose you've been here before." It was awkward, talking to Mark after five years, and we've never been on good terms. It reminded me of when we were kids.

Me being Roger's cousin, and him being Roger's best friend meant that we met up often. At Roger's fifteenth birthday party, when he got his first guitar, Mark and I got into an argument so harsh it ended in me sleeping in a sub station for three days. But we never stayed mad at each other for long, because it turns out Mark was the one who found me. We even dated once, in high school. I was a year behind them, but it didn't matter because we hung out so much… but once he and Roger moved in with Benny, Maureen and Collins, we kinda drifted away. Then he went out with Maureen, blah… and all those moments led up to that Christmas five years ago.

I had decided, in a sudden burst of kindness, to go visit Mark and Roger on Christmas. Man, that was the dumbest idea ever. Mark and I were getting along great! It was amazing, really. But then everything got… heated. He started making fun of me for not getting a boyfriend after him, kept asking me if I was still in love with him. I had had it. I yelled, "BITE ME, PUMPKIN HEAD ALBINO FUCKER!" and jumped off the fire escape.

Thank God, that, by the time I had realized what I was doing, I had landed on a discarded mattress. When I got up and steadied myself, I waved goodbye and went off. Fast forward five years, to me sitting in the small café smiling at the very boy who'd brought me to hell and back.

"So… five years. What've you been up to all this time, Davis?" he asked me, and I shook my head and laughed.

"I've pursued my dream as a freelance reporter for the New York Times. Half the reason why I came back. Before this? Two years in London. Two years in prison. A year of catching up. I hope that adds up to five." I suppose I had caught his attention with "prison," because his head lifted slowly.

"…Prison? Why?" he asked, and I smiled and took his hand.

"Don't worry, it was all a misunderstanding. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, trying to keep someone's life from ending the same way April's did. The cops caught me with the baggie and the money. The money was an accident, ahah. But two years because of disorderly conduct. As far as the 'rents know, I've been here for the last five years of my life."

"And the freelance writer career. That sounds… prestigious. Even for you. The New York Times is honestly accepting your writing? And what were you doing in London?" he asked me, and I counted on my fingers.

"Well, I've had a book idea for a while. And yes, the New York Times is all for my writing, and I was in London because I needed to get away. As soon as I stepped off that mattress, I bought plane tickets. I was gone. And what about you? What in the world have you been doing these past five years?" He laughed at my question and squeezed my hand.

"Same thing I was doing five years ago, without April and Maureen. Filming the life of we bohemians, the musicians and artists… and the homeless. The people with AIDS are my next step, when we find Collins…" After he said this, he looked at his watch. "Oh my God. It's almost midnight! We should be heading back to the apartment, Roger's probably wondering where we got off to." He stood up and pulled me with him.

"Ahahahah, Roger's always worrying about something… he'll be fine, as long as he took his AZT." I skipped out the door, taking Mark along with me. "But I suppose I could use some sleep after my long journey. I walked! It was fun. I walked from the prison. Back home for a few days. Then to your parents' house. Then here. I've been hitchhiking and bussing and carjacking and working the odd job."

"Well, while you've been living the vagabond life, I've been making the sad story of our lives known." he grimaced, and sensing the slight feeling of pain in his voice, I pulled him closer to me and held his arm with my free hand. I realized how we looked to strangers. I really didn't care. It was the bond that had been there since we had first met, the cousin of the best friend, the best friend of the cousin, that kept this from seeming awkward.

"It's gonna be alright, it's not like life's always going to be this way for you… us." I said hopefully, and he smiled.

"You might be right. You might be wrong. But either way, things may fall into place and we'll learn to live with it."

"Atta boy!" I howled, and jumped on Mark's back. He laughed and tried to keep me up as we ran back to the apartment, Christmases Past forgotten.

***

Turns out I was bunking with Mark, since he had the bigger room. But I slept on a generously supplied pile of blankets and couch cushions, in order to keep the peace, and, as Roger put it, "the mad sex to a minimum." Turns out he could be funny when he wasn't being moody.

That morning, I woke up to the sound of coffee mugs clattering and the smell of bacon. When I sat up after untangling myself from the blankets, I saw Mark stir and smile sleepily at me. The best part about being away for five years was, they forgot I was a total spazz in the morning.

I pulled out an outfit from my trunk, an old red sweatshirt with thick khakis and my old blue and white scarf, and got dressed in Roger's room, seeing as he was awake and ready for the day. When I was finished changing, I walked out into the kitchen and gasped. I thought I was looking in an oddly placed mirror when I saw Mark standing in front of me, wearing almost the exact same outfit I was.

"Hey guys, Merry Christmas! We got power!" Roger said, sounding extremely cheerful. Mark and I grabbed a mug and tried to avoid each other's eyes. As soon as we sat down and got comfortable, talking about Roger's "wild night" with the S&M dancer downstairs, the door burst open, and a happy familiar voice shouted,

"MERRY CHRISTMAS, BITCHES!" And Collins walked through the door, carrying a bucket, and the apartment keys in his mouth. He tossed the keys to Mark and said, "Here're your keys."

Mark caught them, if not by the tips of his fingers. "Yeah, fourteen hours later." I came up behind Mark and asked the question that was on everyone's mind,

"What the hell happened to you, man?"


	2. Today 4 U

Collins hesitated, then smiled. He slammed down the bucket and Roger came over saying,

"Oh. Hi!" in a weak voice.

Collins smirked and mimicked Roger. "After seven months? Y'know, this boy could use some Stoli!" He handed the three of us each a small paper cup of vodka as he pulled the joint out from behind his ear.

"Man," Mark said, "This is a complete Christmas feast!"

"You struck gold at MIT!" Roger added, and we attacked the bucket.

"Uhh, no!" he smiled, and added, "Our benefactor today, whose charity is only matched by talent, I must say, a new member of the Alphabet City Avant-Garde, Angel Dumott Schunard!" He slid open the door to show a man (or was it a woman?) in a little Santa jacket, a white Spandex dress, zebra striped tights, and high platform boots. He... She... smiled and handed us each a wad of money. "Here ya go, kiddies!" Angel said happily, and sat down on Tom's lap.

"Well, nice to see you again, Tom!" I said, breaking the awkward silence. He laughed loudly and threw his free arm around me.

"Man, lil' cous, I missed you so much! 'Specially after your little exit that night. Still scarred?" he asked.

"Nahh. As soon as I got up, I went to the airport and used my Christmas money to buy a round trip ticket to London. Stayed there for two years. When I came back, got tossed in prison. Possession of drugs and stolen money, then disorderly conduct." Tom smiled when I said 'disorderly conduct.' "It took me a whole year to get home, then find my way to Mark's parents' and back here. Marky's mom and dad always loved me, and you have to admit it." I punched Mark in the arm and he smiled.

"They liked you more than Maureen. And that's saying something." he shrugged, and put his arm over my other shoulder. It felt just like old times, and Roger didn't hesitate to say so. Just then, the phone rang, and out came,

**"SPEEEEEEEAK."**

"Hey guys. It's Benny." Tension filled the room as the once-friendly voice echoed through the apartment. "Just reminding you, you have until dark to stop Maureen's protest. That's when my offer expires." I looked at Mark and Roger, who were looking squeamish.

"When did Benny tell you guys this?" I asked, and Roger shot a look at Mark.

"He came to the apartment last night. After you fell asleep." Mark finally said. "We didn't tell him you were here, he would've wanted to see you." We were both remembering what only the two of us knew: the short time I went out with Benny after he moved out of the apartment. He still hadn't gotten over it although he was married.

"Oh, well, then I should thank you for saving my ass." I smiled and leaned my head on Mark's chest so I could smile up at him. Tom moved his arm to check his watch as the phone rang once again.

**"SPEEEEEEAK."**

"Hello, Mark? It's Maureen!" Mark's face went whiter than usual and his hand went into a vice grip on my shoulder. "Look, I hired Joanne as my production manager, and... I don't think she has a clue what the hell she's doing. Please, baby, if you could come down to the performance space..." Mark shot up and grabbed the phone.

"Hi, Maureen." He sounded resentful. "Yes... Yes... Alright, I'll be there." He hung up angrily. "Ughh, this is so typical! First, Maureen just dumps me..."

"Whoa," interrupted Tom, who was behind on the times, "Maureen dumped you?" Now this, I could resist interjecting.

"Yeah, for a lawyer named Joanne!" I cackled, and I heard Roger snickering behind me as Angel and Tom burst into laughter.

"Well, why'd you say yes? You didn't have to go." Tom said sensibly.

"Yeah, but... I mean..." Mark struggled for words, and Tom smiled.

"Oooh. I get it. You still love her." he played with the joint in his mouth, and Angel added, "Este huevo necesita un poco de sal," and apparently that made them both giggle. Tom looked at his watch again and said, "Hey, we have to go to this meeting, y'all wanna come with?"

"Meeting for what?" I asked, and Angel replied, "Life Support." Roger snorted.

"On Christmas?" he asked, and Angel looked a little sad.

"Some people don't have anywhere else to go today." she said, and turned to Mark. "You can come too, Mark, it's not just for people with AIDS."

"I'll come later, but right now, I have a protest to save." he said bitterly, gathering his bag and camera. I skipped up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll come with you, Marky. Keep you out of trouble." I offered, and he nodded. Tom made whip noises, and Mark took my hand and pulled us out. After us came Tom's voice,

"I'm just playin' with you, boy!" And along with it came laughter.

***

We were now walking along the crowded streets of New York. Even though it was Christmas Day, there were still boyfriends and husbands buying last-second gifts, children staring in toy and candy shop windows (I'll admit, it took a lot of willpower to keep my face away from those grubby little fingerprint stained windows,) mothers yanking the children away as she bought food for Christmas dinner, and, of course, the homeless, who had nowhere else to go. I lingered behind Mark a bit, so he took my hand again and pulled me closer.

"Watch out, these people can get antsy when they need money." he whispered in my ear, and I nodded.

"I figured." We came to Tent City, walking through groups and lines and clumps of homeless people. Mark pulled me through a large entryway, and we were soon enveloped by sun. I looked around, and among the homeless, there was a large, scarcely decorated stage, on it, a black woman dressed in a navy pantsuit.

"Uhm... hello? Maureen called for me to fix the equipment?" Mark said carefully, and the woman turned around hopefully.

"You're Mark?" Her face fell when she saw us, the unofficial clothing probably led her away from the thoughts of engineers.

"Joanne?" Mark said quietly, and I held my breath to keep from laughing. But, realizing I was the only one unintroduced here, I called out,

"And I'm Kiley! I'm Mark's best friend! Maureen knows me, too, but, to tell you the truth, I'm not quite fond of her." I fired off, sounding like a kid hyped up on Christmas candy.

Mark smiled in relief at the tension being lifted, and Joanne scowled.

"Maureen was supposed to meet me here..." Mark said now, his brow furrowing.

"Well, don't hold your breath." Joanne replied, disgusted, and I let out the breath I'd been holding since I introduced myself. I did it loudly, too, to keep the tension from falling again. Mark seemed amused by my childish behavior, but it only made Joanne angrier.

"This is so typical." he walked over to the sound equipment and started tinkering with it. "Hey Kiley, sing one of Roger's old songs into the microphone. That'll test the acoustics." I nodded and skipped over to the mike and started screaming,

"I GOTTA FIND MYSELF IN THIS AIDS RIDDEN HELL... BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH... blah blah... blah?" I forgot the words to one of Roger's more, err, creative songs. To cover up for that, I sang, "LA LA LA LAAAA!!!" into the broken microphone repeatedly, trying to pretend I wasn't listening to Mark and Joanne talk about Maureen. Her flirtiness, her commitment issues, and, of course, her supposed unfaithfulness. Being the loser I am, I just had to pipe up.

"Hey, Marky, when did Maureen break up with you...?" I asked quietly, pretending to be curious.

"Oh, I would say... three weeks ago." he said, thinking back. A look of shock crossed Joanne's face. "What? What's wrong, Joanne?"

"Maureen and I... have been dating for two months now." And those were the magic words. We all looked at each other with some sick realization, satisfaction in my case, and we all said, "Dammn..."

"She cheated!" Joanne said, walking away, head in hands.

"She cheated." Mark agreed, going back to tinker with the machine.

"Maureen cheated." they said together, as if that confirmed anything.

"Fucking cheated." I said finally. We all sat there in a sullen silence, me tapping the vocorder the only thing breaking it. Then, finally, I tapped it once, hearing the taps echo. I giggled maniacally and screamed, "WE'RE PATCHED!" I loved hearing the echo, and Mark smiled. The phone rang just then, and Joanne went to pick it up.

"Maureen? Yes, we're..." Just then, her face went from sullen to anger. "You... you've never called me... Pookie." Mark sent a self-satisfied smile her way, and she rolled her eyes. "Look, we're patched. Yeah. Okay." She hung up, and turned around, looking pissed. Mark, however, was getting a thrill out of this as he said,

"Pookie." Joanne rolled her eyes again, and we left for the Life Support meeting after bidding Joanne aideu.

"So... Maureen cheated on both of you?" I asked carefully, and Mark shrugged.

"I suppose. Maybe I should've paid closer attention to our relationship. I've become rather attached to my camera lately. Maybe that's why she broke up with me? I don't know." He seemed rather disappointed with himself, so I wrapped my arms around his waist and snuggled my face into his red sweatshirt.

"It's not your fault, Marky darling. You have passion. She should've respected that. I know I do. And I'm not even dating you!" I laughed, and Mark placed a hand on my head.

"I guess you're right." he laughed back, and we walked into the community center arm in arm. When we got in, we saw Collins and Angel, sitting with their backs to us, and an introduction going around the circle.

"Steve."

"Gordon."

"Ali."

"Pam."

"Sue."

It came to Angel. She took off her wig, revealing a crew cut, and said, "Angel." She turned to Tom, who gulped. He seemed overwhelmed.

"Tom. Collins." he said slowly.

The last man said, "Paul." Mark and I just had to choose the quietest moment to embarrass ourselves; Mark dropped his bag taking his camera out and I fell over my own feet. I blushed when they turned around, waved, and said,

"Kiley, Kiley Davis!" I pulled up a chair next to Tom and hugged him. Now the spotlight was on Mark, who couldn't help but stutter his way through the introduction. I laughed at him as Angel waved a pinkie and Tom placed his hand over mouth to keep from giggling like me.

The meeting went fine after that little, err, mishap, and Mark got his footage. I got a chip on my shoulder. And Angel and Tom got something in common.


	3. Will I

After the meeting, we went out for dinner at a small café, down Main Street. It was hours after we left the apartment, and we were worried about Roger being alone on Christmas Day.

We walked down the street, laughing and talking about our day. Mark and I told them about Maureen's unfaithfulness, Tom and Angel told us about their bonding before the meeting. Mark and I shot sly glances at each other as Tom and Angel skipped ahead of us, holding hands and giggling.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Mark whispered to me, and I giggled.

"If you're thinking of romantic sabotage, then yes, we _are_ on the same wavelength." I smiled, and casually walked up next to Angel, Mark following suit on Tom's side. Now, we hadn't planned ahead. But once Mark winked, I cupped my hands around my mouth and said, "Toooom!" and Mark said, "Hey, Angel!" They both turned to face the opposite direction, and, thank God their mouths were closed, because as soon as they turned around, Mark and I pushed them together and they, err, "kissed." We glanced at each other for a few milliseconds, then, with a whoop of joy from me, we both ran off.

"Hey, you stupid lil' albinos! Get back here so I can beat your faces!" We heard Tom scream behind us. I giggled, started running backwards, waved, and almost tripped turning back around. Mark caught me, and once he did that, Angel and Tom caught up. Apparently there were no hard feelings (thank God,) so we walked the short distance to the apartment when I heard a familiar voice.

"Hey... isn't that Mimi?" I said carefully, and we walked around the corner to see Mimi shouting up at the highest fire escape, the one from our apartment. Angel wrapped an arm around Mimi's shoulders, and led her back to her apartment. Mark and I shot a glance at each other, and walked back up to the flat, hand in hand. I peeked my head in first, and said, "Roger baby? You alright?" When I saw the coast was clear, I led Mark in and noticed Roger sitting on the windowsill. I lifted my finger up to my lips, then to Mark's, and tiptoed back into our room.

***

The next morning, I woke up to an empty room. I stretched out of my blankets, yawning like a cat, and stomped into the kitchen. I saw Mark and Roger on the same windowsill from last night, talking quietly.

"Look... Mimi's gonna be at Maureen's show tonight. You can come, if you want. You need to get out more." Mark said, tapping Roger's knee. Then he got up and hugged me good morning. I placed one of my hands on his back, the other was tangled in a blanket. We were both worried about Roger. But we had a Life Support meeting to go to.

"There's only one question." I didn't have AIDS, but according to Paul, my opinion as a reporter was welcomed, especially since I planned on running a column in the New York Times called Life Support. "I hear it out of every patient's mouth: Will I lose my dignity? And I must say, I've never heard something much more... love inspired. I know people who are afraid to live, afraid to love, because of a simple diagnosis. I know, I know, it's not that simple. But as I say, simplicity is in the eye of the beholder." I smiled, and just as I finished my speech, the door slammed shut. We turned around, and I heard Tom say, "Yeahh booy!" as Roger pulled up a chair and sat down. He had his guitar in hand, and I didn't know how long he had been standing at the door, but long enough to come with a song that went a little like this:

_"Will I lose my dignity? Will someone care...? Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare...?"_

Tom and Angel put their arms around his shoulders, and Mark, camera in hand, came up behind me and placed a hand on my shoulder as we sang along, and it seemed like a perfectly happy little moment. After the meeting, the tension between the four of us and Roger was lifted as we walked out of there, laughing, and in Angel and Tom's case, holding hands. We needed to get to the Performance Space so we could help Maureen with her soundcheck, and since the community center was in Brooklyn, we needed to take the subway.

As soon as we got down the stairs, Angel started singing,

_"New York City, center of the universe." _As she sang we cheered her on, "Sing it, girl! Yeahhh!" _"Times are shitty, but I'm pretty sure they can't get worse." _Roger added, "I hear that." _"It's a comfort to know, when you're singing the hit-the-road blues, that anywhere else you could possibly go after New York would be," _she walked inside the subway and smiled at us through the window, _"a pleasure cruise."_ Tom clapped and said, "Now you're talking!"

We spent the train ride discussing our new plan: we were going to gather up all our money and move out West, to Santa Fe. We would open a restaurant, Mark as the chef, Roger writing the menu, Angel providing the entertainment, Tom as the maitre'd, and myself as the publicity officer, as I called myself. After we got off the train, Mark dragged Roger and I to Maureen's soundcheck as to leave Tom and Angel alone. I smiled and waved as I grabbed onto Mark's hand so I wouldn't lose him.

"Why are you taking me?" Roger asked as soon as we were out of earshot. Mark and I gave him a look, and he nodded, a look of confusion and acceptance on his face. We only had a short while to walk to the Performance Space, and when we got there, we were greeted by the sight of Maureen and Joanne arguing. Mark coughed, Roger scuffed his foot on the floor, and I spun around and fell. The only one of the three sounds that got the girls' attention was me falling and Mark hurrying to pick me up. Maureen ran over and as soon as I got up, hugged me.

"Kiley! Oh my God! Mark, you didn't tell me she was home!" she scolded Mark playfully, still pinning my arms to my sides. Mark, looking sheepish, rubbed the back of his neck and smiled.

"Well, I haven't talked to you since you yesterday, and I didn't have a chance to talk much about my personal life." he said, and Maureen hugged him, then Roger. I walked over to Joanne, who was looking a bit steamed.

"You okay, Jo?" I asked, using the pet name my mom had used with her sister, also named Joanne. "Had a spat with Maureen?"

Joanne scowled, then nodded. "I confronted her about the little... overlap between her two relationships. Then she brought out the whole 'pookie' thing, and it was all downhill from there." Maureen dragged Roger over to Joanne and introduced them.

"Hey, Jo, this is Roger. He's Mark and Kiley's roommate. And Roger, this is Joanne. My new girlfriend and production manager." Maureen looked happy as hell, Mark looked upset, Roger looked awkward, Joanne looked pissed, and then there was me, smiling and shifting from foot to foot.

"So! Let's get this soundcheck on a roll!" I jumped up on stage and started singing Bon Jovi's "Living on a Prayer," much to the amusement of my companions. Then Maureen got up on stage and started her protest performance. I had seen better, hell, much better than this chick. But if she was going to let Mark and I use her performance for kudos points in our careers, then I would have to grin and bear it. When she stopped, she spun around to face us and spread out her arms.

"Well, what did you think?" she said, beaming at us. I managed to fake a smile and a thumbs up before anyone could say anything mean. Joanne, of course, started clapping, because she was nice like that. Mark stood there, mouth agape, and Roger was covering his mouth to avoid giggling aloud.

"You did great, baby!" Joanne hopped up on stage and kissed Maureen on the cheek. I felt as if I should say something, so I crossed my arms, looked up at the ceiling, and said,

"Well, I will congratulate your passion, Maureen, and I'll admit I have the same." I said carefully, and smiled. "And I know Mark and I are going to get major props for this performance." Maureen's smile got bigger and brighter, if that was possible. Mark laughed at my comment, and put an arm around my shoulders.

"I wouldn't be surprised that if tomorrow, there was a big article in the New York Times and a nice video on the Headline News in your honor." he said, pulling me closer. I knew Mark a lot better than this: he was doing this to make Maureen feel jealous... and he was failing majorly. But, to make him feel better, I snuggled my head into his chest and said,

"Well, if my editor lets me. He's been making me keep a journal like a fucking newspaper, and if he makes me do any more grade-school 'tutorials', I'm probably going to be back in jail before I can transfer to the Express Times." I grinned maliciously, and pulled my journalist's notebook out of my pocket. I've been scribbling in it since I got to Mark and Roger's apartment.

"Alright, I think we should go get ready for the performance tonight!" Maureen said, bouncing off stage. "We'll see you guys tonight, come on, Pookie!" Joanne followed reluctantly, waving good-bye to us. As soon as they went through the door, we all started laughing.

"Are you guys _really_ going to write about that? Because it's a bit early for April Fool's Day." Roger wheezed, doubling over in giggles.

"Ahahahah! Well, you never know. Maybe people will be too stoned or drunk to tell." I said, leaning up against the stage. "What time is the show?"

Mark looked at his watch in response to my question. "Three hours. Eight." When he said we had three hours, I jumped up.

"Are you serious?! Then why are we still hanging around here? I need to get ready, and don't we need to be back here by seven to help Maureen and Joanne set up?" When Roger and Mark nodded, I pulled them by the hands. "Well, then, come on!"

We walked back to the flat, laughing and chatting about nothing in particular. On the way up the stairs, we passed Mimi, who sent smiles to me and Mark but daggers to Roger. We smiled and waved back, and Roger stood behind us, looking sheepish. When we walked into the apartment and closed the door, nothing needed to be said to get a sigh of remorse from Roger, who threw his hands over his head and plopped down on the couch. Mark and I shared a satisfied glance, and sat down next to him.

"Are you going to invite her to come with us after Maureen's show now, Roger?" I asked, sitting on the armrest with my feet reclining on his shoulder.

"It's not like she's going to have hard feelings. She really likes you." Mark said, "And this might be good for you." Roger sighed again, then looked at the two of us, grinning like the evil monkeys from the Wizard of Oz and not taking 'no' for an answer.

"Alright. I'll go, and invite Mimi to come to the Life Café with us." he said reluctantly, and I slapped his leg and said, "Atta boy!" But then I realized he was wearing those plaid pyjama pants... ooh.

"Change outta those pants, dude." Mark said, taking the words right out of my mouth. "This isn't high school." WE laughed at him as he threw his sweatshirt at us and stalked off to his room. I grabbed Mark's hand to drag him into our room so he could get a new outfit and go in the bathroom. I didn't want him walking in on me, and neither did he.


	4. Only Thing To Do Is JUMP!

When we were done changing (and the boys were deemed decent by me,) it was six thirty, so we walked to the Performance Space, which was empty. I winked and Mark and Roger and hopped up on stage, singing 'White Wedding' by Billy Idol, thrashing and giggling. By the tenth time I had said it, I was screaming, "HEY LITTLE SISTER SHOTGUN!" and just as I struck a pose for Mark's camera, Joanne and Maureen walked in. That got major giggles from Roger, who had been laughing the entire time. I kept rocking out to my own little beat until Maureen came up, laughing, took the microphone and stopped the madness.

"Hey! This is my show!" she said playfully, then started singing 'White Wedding' with me. We did stuff like that for a while, until Joanne said,

"Come on, baby, a half hour until the show starts and people start showing up." Maureen pouted a little, but agreed and sang her protest song, 'Over the Moon,' one last time before Joanne, Roger, Mark, and I started setting up. People started pouring in at about ten of eight, and Roger went to go look for Mimi. Mark walked around, finding the X's we had put down earlier so he could have good places to stand and record the show. I pulled up the chair I had picked out so I could sit down and write about the show and get the article to my editor as soon as I could. Mark stood behind me, and I didn't know he was there until I heard,

"And also attending Maureen's performance tonight is Kiley Davis, the drama queen of Avenue B. Tell me, Kiley, are you planning to write about this entire show for the New York Times?" I turned around, laughing, and said,

"Yes, and hopefully my incredibly, well, censored to protect my career, editor will accept it as my big advance." I smiled, then I grabbed the camera and kissed the lens. Before Mark could flip, I said, "Hey. Would you rather it be you I was kissing?" When he hesitated, I start laughing maniacally and screamed, "SO YOU DO! AHAHA!" He blushed fiercely.

"Hey! I didn't mean it like that! Did you not see me glare, or is it too dark in here?" He shuffled to try to get to a well-lit angle, but by then, we had been interrupted by the sounds of a motorcycle and the whoops and hollers of the audience behind us. I whipped out my pencil and notepad, and Mark hurried to his first position, still next to me so I could make fun of him. I wrote down,

_Enter Maureen Johnson, our exotic performer who is protesting the replacement of Tent City and the Performance Space with the apparently-glorified Cyberland. Already the crowd is going mad, and she's eating it all up. In the back, trying to hide, you can see Benjamin Coffin III and his investors, including his father-in-law. Will the police stop the performance? You never know..._

I stopped writing as the lights brightened up on stage and slipped my notepad and pencil into Mark's bag, right next to me. Maureen flipped her hair off her face and smiled at the cheering audience.

"Last Night I Had A Dream. I Found Myself In  
A Desert Called Cyberland. It Was Hot. My  
Canteen Had Sprung A Leak And I Was  
Thirsty. Out Of The Abyss Walked A Cow -  
Elsie. I Asked If She Had Anything To Drink.  
She Said, "I'm Forbidden To Produce Milk. In  
Cyberland, We Only Drink Diet Coke."

She Said, "Only Thing To Do Is Jump Over  
The Moon"

"They've Closed Everything Real  
Down...Like Barns, Troughs, and ...  
Performance Spaces...And Replaced It  
All With Lies And Rules And Virtual Life.  
But There Is A Way Out..."

The crowd was eating up the dramatic performance, and I had to admit, she was a lot better than she was during all her soundchecks.

"Leap Of Faith, Leap Of Faith,  
Leap Of Faith, Leap Of Faith...

"Only Thing To Do Is Jump Over The Moon"

I Gotta Get Out Of Here! It's Like I'm  
Being Tied To The Hood Of A Yellow  
Rental Truck, Being Packed In With  
Fertilizer And Fuel Oil, Pushed Over A  
Cliff By A Suicidal Mickey Mouse! - I've  
Gotta Gotta Gotta Gotta Gotta Gotta Gotta Gotta Gotta Gotta Find A Way..."

I was entertained by the crowd's reactions, they were laughing and smiling, and Mimi screamed, "Yeahh! Go Maureen!"

"To Jump Over The  
Moon  
Only Thing To Do Is  
Jump Over The Moon  
Leap Of Faith...

Then A Little Bulldog Entered. His Name  
We Have Learned Was Benny."

Everyone turned around and grimaced and boo'd at Benny, who was smiling knowingly.

"And Although He Once Had Principles, He  
Abandoned Them To Live As A Lap Dog To  
A Wealthy Daughter Of The Revolution.

A 1-2-3

"That's Bull," He Said. "Ever Since The Cat  
Took Up The Fiddle, That Cow's Been Jumpy.  
And The Dish And Spoon Were Evicted From  
The Table - And Eloped... She's Had Trouble  
With That Milk And The Moon Ever Since.  
Maybe It's A Female Thing, 'Cause Who'd Want To Leave

Cyberland Anyway?...  
Walls Ain't So Bad. The Dish And Spoon For Instance.

They Were Down On Their Luck -  
They come knockin' On My Doghouse Door and I Said, 'Not  
In My Backyard, Utensils! Go Back To  
China!'" Bee dee bong "The Only Way Out-Is Up," Elsie  
Whispered To Me. "A Leap Of Faith. Still  
Thirsty?" She Asked. "Parched." "Have  
Some Milk." I Lowered Myself Beneath  
Her And Held My Mouth To Her Swollen  
Udder And Sucked The Sweetest Milk I'd  
Ever Tasted."

_Well then._ I thought as Maureen leaned over and pretended to suck milk from an imaginary cow, _This isn't that bad._ I leaned my head on Mark, who was still standing next to me. He looked down at me , but said nothing.

"Climb On Board." She Said. And As A  
Harvest Moon Rose Over Cyberland, We  
Reared Back And Sprang Into A Gallop.  
Leaping Out Of Orbit!!!  
I Awoke Singing  
Leap Of Faith, Etc.

Only Thing To Do  
Only Thing To Do Is Jump  
Only Thing To Do Is Jump Over The Moon  
Only Thing To Do Is Jump Over The Moon  
Over The Moon-Over The  
Moooooooo  
Moooooooo  
Moooooooo  
Moooooooo  
Moo With Me

Thank You!"

And just as everyone started mooing, the police kind of lost it and started yelling at the protesters nearest them. And they just happened to be next to Mark and I. I stood up, brushed myself off, and grinned. Mark tried stopping me, but I was already right behind an officer.

"I've already been in jail." I whispered to myself. Then, taking a deep breath and not thinking twice, I screamed, "MOOOO!" The cop turned around and tried grabbing me, but I was too quick. I had already ducked and tripped the cop, laughing. But before I could gloat to his friends, a hand was pulling me by both elbows, dragging my feet along. "Hey punk, lemme go!" And then I heard a familiar voice.

"Calm down, it's me!" Mark said, pulling me up so I could stand. "You're not going into prison again, what if this movie doesn't make any money? I'm not quite sure the New York Times are taking articles from the local jailhouse. I stuck out my tongue at him, but hung on tight. We came out of there just fine, better than the people in handcuffs, anyway. I pulled Mark over to a bench and finished my article, then handed the pad to Mark. He read it over and smiled. "Great job! Really great. I'm not sure why you're not in the staff by now." I smiled and hugged him tightly around the middle, then remembered:

"We have to go to the Life Café!" I pulled Mark up by the hand and we ran through the snow. We stopped by the office of the New York Times first, where I offered my editor the article I had written, and, seeing the opportunity in a first-to-know basis, he bought it from me as soon as he saw it.

"I see great things in you, Davis." He smiled in a paternal matter; I knew it was all an act but I took the money anyway. When I walked out into the lobby, Mark stood up and I waved the ten twenties in front of his face. He smiled and hugged me and I stuffed the bills in my pocket.

"Now let's go sell that film!" We walked next to the television station, where they took the film and paid big bucks for it almost instantly. Feeling accomplished, we walked hand in hand in the ankle-deep snow to the Life Café. Mark ushered me through the door just as the rest of our little group was about to sit down.

"Mark!" "Kiley!" "Oh my God, are you guys alright?" "We were just wondering where you were!" We quieted them down and told them the news. Maureen seemed flattered.

"Are you serious. You did that for me?" she asked, and we both nodded. She smiled brightly and hugged us both, considering we were still holding hands. "How can I repay you guys?" Joanne intervened, trying to pretend she was laughing.

"Let the lovebirds pay for dinner." she said, motioning down at our interlocked hands. We followed her gaze and quickly let go. That little trick got applause and cheers from everyone, until the maitre'd came over.

"No, no, no, no, no! You can't eat here, not tonight!" he said quickly, motioning at our group of eight. That got a chorus of "What?" "Why not?" The maitre'd sighed. "You always come here, and you don't order anything."

"Well that's a lie!" Mark said, "Just last week I ordered a tea." We all laughed and clapped him on the back.

"You couldn't pay." The maitre'd countered, and that got an "Oh yeah..." out of Mark. Angel, smiling, sidled up to the front of our group.

"Well, tonight we can!" She waved a wad of money in front of the maitre'd's face. "Come on, you guys." The only thing the distressed maitre'd could say was, "Please don't move the tables together!"

But we were all too busy greeting one another, and the restaurant was filled with introductions, laughter, and congratulations. We had pushed at least five or six tables together when we finally sat down. Just then, Maureen stood up again.

"Well, well, well... Benjamin Coffin III, the enemy of Avenue A." Tom piped up, "You've got a lot of nerve, showin' your face around here." Benny sighed, smiled a little, and stood up.

"Look... I didn't want this to happen." I pouted a little and said, "Well... you put the cops on standby. You had to at least be expecting something to go wrong." He saw me and smiled. "Hi, Kiley, how's the journalism going?" he said in a smug fashion.

"Shove it." I replied, and Mark said, "Jerk." Feeling a lot more confident now, I said, "Look, why don't you take whatever else you have to say to us a shove it up your ass, see if any of us care." I got applause and cheers from my company, I was all the way down at the end of the table, so if Benny heard, everyone heard. He smiled again. Roger, curious, asked, "Hey, Benny. Why didn't Muffy..."

"Allison." Benny corrected him quietly. Roger paused a little before finishing his question.

"...miss the show?" There was an awkward silence, and Benny sighed and said, "There was a death in the family."

"Who died?" asked Angel, concerned. "Our Akita." Benny didn't sound remorseful as he said this, but Roger, Mark, and I all looked at each other and said, "Evita!" Angel looked down and Tom started chuckling. That was way too ironic.


	5. La Vie Boheme, C'est La Vie, French!

Benny grinned broadly and stood at the end of the table. "You make fun, yet I'm the one, attempting to do some good." He walked around the table, placing his hands on my shoulders. I shrugged him off with a scowl, and he kept walking. "Or do you really want a neighborhood where people piss on your stoop every night? Bohemia, bohemia's a fallacy in your head. This is calcutta," he stopped at Roger and Mark, a hand on each shoulder, "bohemia is dead." Mark and I shot a mischevious glance at each other, and we hopped up to each end of the table, mocking Benny. We sent one last wink at each other, and chorused:

"Dearly beloved, we gather here to say our goodbyes!" Tom and Roger stood up, saying something in a foreign tongue. "Here she lies," I laid down on the table, a strange form of crowd surfing as they carried me to the end of the table where Mark was, "no one knew her worth! The late, great daughter of Mother Earth. On these nights, when we celebrate the birth..." They started rocking me gently, Angel flicking pretend holy water. "In that little town of Bethlehem, we raise our glass," Mark and Maureen hopped on the table, each with a mug of beer. "You bet your ass!" Maureen shimmied down the Spandex pants she wore for her show, flashing the investors and Benny. Joanne smacked her in a strange act of, well, not being uptight, and we all laughed. Roger and Collins hoisted me up as Maureen sat down, and she handed me her beer. "To... la vie... boheme." We smiled at each other and went back to our opposite ends as everyone around the table repeated the words "La vie boheme" and created a rhythmic pattern of smacking the table. Mark and I started strutting down the table as we sang,

"To days of inspiration, playing hooky, making something out of nothing, the need to express! To communicate, to going against the grain, going insane, going mad... to loving tension, no pension, to more than one dimension, to starving for attention, hating convention, hating pretension, not to mention, of course, hating dear old Mom and Dad!" Mark lifted up my feet and I scaled the table with my hands as we sang, "To riding your bike midday past the three piece suits, to fruits! To no absolutes, to Absolut, to choice, to the Village Voice, to any passing fad!" I grabbed onto Mark around the neck, and he grabbed me around my waist as we sang, "To being an us for once, instead of a them!" We pushed each other away and started some of our lame dance moves. "La vie boheme!"

An awkward silence filled the room as the investors watched a little session of PDA, courtesy of Maureen and Joanne. One of them coughed his disapproval, and Maureen turned and said, "Hey mister." She clapped her hands on Joanne's ass. "She's my sister." They looked at each other and laughed as the waiter came around.

"So that's five miso soup, four seaweed salad, three soyburger dunner, two tofu-dog platter, and one pasta wiith meatless balls." We all looked at Tom as Roger said, "Ew."

"It tastes the same!" he said defensively.

"If you close your eyes." Mimi giggled.

"... and thirteen orders of fries, is that it here?" In reply, we all screamed, "WINE AND BEER!" Angel and Mimi got up on the table and started singing,

"To handcrafted beers made in local breweries, to yoga, to yogurt, to rices and beans and cheese, to leather, to dildos, to curry vindaloo, to huevos, rancheros, and Maya Angelou!"

Maureen and Tom danced in front of the table then, singing, "Emotion, devotion, to causing a commotion, creation, vacation..." Mark and I sent one pleasantly evil grin at each other. "MUCHO MASTURBATION!" we shrugged, and that got giggles from even Benny. "Compassion, to fashion, to passion when it's new!"

Tom sang by himself, "To Sontag!" "To Sondheim!" Angel added. "To anything taboo!"

Tom and Roger hopped back up on the table and sang, "Ginsburg, Dylan, Cunningham and Cage!"

"Lenny Bruce!" Tom said, motioning to Roger.

"Langston Hughes!" Roger added, returning the favor.

Maureen laid across the table and screamed, "TO THE STAGE!"

"To Uddah!" Joanne laughed.

"To Buddah!" Mark sang.

"Pablo Neruda, too!" Mark and I leaped back up on the table, balancing one foot on the table. "Why Dorothy and Toto went, over the rainbow to blow off Auntie Em! La vie boheme!" We did more of our lame dances moves, laughing, and Maureen and Joanne went back at it.

"Sisters?" the eldest investor interrupted, hopefully Benny's father-in-law. "We're close." Maureen and Joanne said together, and Angel and Tom laid on the table, kissing, so we decided to block their way and Mark and I got on either side of the table and lifted our hands up in frozen jazz hands. When the crowd separated, all four of us yelled, "Brothers!" Mark and I hopped up onto the table, hands clasped, and started singing along,

"Bisexuals, trisexuals, homosapiens, carcinogens, hallocinogens, men, PeeWee Herman! German wine, Gertrude Stein, Antonioni, Bertolucci, Kurosawa, Carmina Burana! To apathy, to entropy, to empathy, ecstasy, Vaclav Haval, The Sex Pistols, 8BC! To no shame never playing the fame game!" Tom and I both picked up a joint and exclaimed,

"TO MARIJUANA!"

"To sodomy, it's between God and me! To S&M! La vie boheme!"

Benny was walking away with his investors, yelling, "Waiter, waiter, waiter!" We all sat around laughing when Tom stood in front of us, joint behind his ear.

"In honor of the death of bohemia, an impromptu salon will commence immediately following dinner! Maureen Johnson, just back from her spectacular one night engagement at the 11th Street Lot will perform Native American tribal chants, backwards, through her vocorder, while accompanying herself on the electric cello, which she ain't never studied."

I pulled Mark over to the end of the table and sat right next to where he was standing, holding on to his shoulders. "And Mark Cohen will preview his new documentary about his inability to hold an erection on the high holy days!" He placed his hands on my shoulders and jumped off the table.

"And Kiley Davis, clad only in bubble wrap, will write the great American novel, in Russian, to the sounds of iced tea being stirred." I rolled my eyes, laughed, and we said together,

"And Roger will attempt to write a bittersweet, evocative song." When he played a familiar opera tune, Mark and I smirked at each other momentarily and said, "That doesn't remind us of Musetta's Waltz." Mark winked, and I did the whole snap-and-point. We jumped off the table to make way for Angel, who was being introduced by Tom.

"Angel Dumott Schunard will model her latest fall fashions from Paris while accompanying herself on the ten-gallon plastic pickle tub." Tom jumped up on the bar, egged on by Angel and the rest of us.

"And Collins will recount his exploits as anarchist, including the tale of his successful reprogramming of the MIT Retro-Reality Equipment to self destruct as it broadcasts the words:"

**"ACTUAL REALITY, ACT UP, FIGHT AIDS!"**

Mark and I watched Mimi and Roger go off by themselves, but we weren't quite concerned. Mark was introducing me to their friends, and we were being compared in our pursuit of journalism as a first step in our careers. And then there were those few people who remembered when we dated in high school, and the hell that followed. We sat around laughing, and I even shared the story of the why and while I was in prison. Tom was delighted by my tales of murderers and jealous ex-girlfriends... mainly because almost the exact same thing happened while he was in prison.

It carried on like that until Mimi and Roger walked back in, snow-coated and blissful. We had just eyed them walking in, and now they were kissing like nothing was wrong... until we all started cheering. They turned around, Mimi blushing and Roger looking like he did when I told him Mark and I were dating, and we lifted Mimi up on the bar.

"TO DANCE!" we cried, and Mimi started her dancing, and sang,

"No way to make a living, masochism, pain, perfection, muscle spasms, chiropractors, short careers, eating disorders!"

"JOURNALISM!"

Mark and I both hopped up on the bar after Mimi and started singing,

"Adventure, tedium, no family, boring locations, darkrooms, perfect faces, egos, money, Hollywood, and sleaze!" We grabbed hands and jumped off the bar as everyone screamed,

"MUSIC!" And Angel hopped on the bar, dragging Roger with her.

"Food of love, emotion, mathematics, isolation, rhythm, power, feeling, harmony, and heavy competition!" Then they jumped off to make room for Maureen and Tom, who sang along to,

"ANARCHY!"

"Evolution, justice, screaming for solutions, forcing changes, risk and danger, making noise and making pleas!" They hugged as we sang,

"To faggots, lezzies, dykes, cross-dressers, too!"

"To me!" Tom, "To me!" Angel, "Me!" Maureen, "And you, and you, and you, you, and you! To people living with, living with, living with, not dying from disease, let he among us without sin be the first to condemn! La vie boheme!"

Everyone else repeated "La vie boheme" as Mark and I hopped back up on our opposite ends and sang,

"To anyone out of the mainstream... is anyone in the mainstream? Anyone alive with a sex drive! Tear down the wall, aren't we all? The opposite of war isn't peace, it's creation! La vie boheme..."

The order was Maureen, Joanne, Mark, Roger, Mimi, myself, Angel, and Tom, Mark and I dancing like losers by ourselves, a 'mucho masturbation' moment, in my opinion.

"VIVA LA VIE BOHEME!" But alas, I spoke too soon. After the last syllable of 'boheme' was shouted, Mimi and Roger grabbed me and Mark by the backs of our shirts and pushed us together. A planned revenge on the side of Tom and Angel? I dunno. But the fact we were pushed together and forced to kiss led me to believe such.

It was an awkward moment on our part; a moment of sick glee on the others', but instead of doing anything childish, Mark and I hugged, and he whispered in my ear, "C'est la vie."

This is life.


	6. New Year's Eve

It was almost a week after the fun yet awkward night at the Life Café, and Mark and I were getting along as well as always, on formal terms. That morning, I woke up and blinked at the calendar across the room. "December 31st." I mumbled to myself, "New Year's Eve." I saved a quick smile for myself as I pulled on a colorful and festive outfit. When I walked out, Mark and Roger were standing there, laughing and drinking coffee. I came up in between them, with my own mug of coffee, and said,

"Happy New Year's Eve, boys." I threw my arms over their shoulders, and they grinned and returned the favor.

"Well, well, well... any anniversaries to celebrate in this gap between 1989 and 1990?" Mark asked, holding his camera up to my face.

"Yeah. The anniversary of 1990." I shoved the camera out of my face. I was too tired, it was too early, and I looked like shit. "Now eff off. I need my coffee. Then I need to brush my hair and put on makeup so I look halfway decent." I downed my coffee and slammed the mug on the table. Roger gave Mark a look when he thought I wasn't looking, and Mark took a deep breath.

"Hey, uhh, Kiley. We... I... was wondering if you wanted to go to Times Square with us for New Year's, but if you're too tired..." Mark asked awkwardly, and I smirked at him.

"Well of course I wanna go!" I hopped off my stool and kissed him on the cheek. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be preparing for my day." I walked into our room, laughing, because all I could imagine at that moment was Mark's face and Roger snickering behind his hand.

***

"Three... two... one!" everyone in Times Square shouted as the ball dropped, and me, not being big on holidays, threw my arms around Mark, who was laughing and recording the moment for his documentary.

"Hey, Kiley!" he shouted, pointing the camera in my face. "What's your New Year's resolution?" I tapped my chin with one finger theatrically, then relinquished my hold on him and skipped ahead.

"Get a boyfriend!" I laughed, then thought of something. "And you might wanna get a girlfriend, Cohen!" I playfully punched him in the arm, and he shook his head.

"Well then... alright, consider that my New Year's resolution!" he laughed, and put his free arm around me. "Hey, hey Mimi, Roger! What're your New Year's resolutions?"

Mimi smiled, clutching onto Roger's arm. "I'm giving up my vices and going back to school." Roger seemed elated by the news and then Mark rounded on him.

"Write a song." he said simply, and I started snickering.

"Yeah, maybe this year?" He glared at me, and I started laughing harder. They walked away, and Tom and Angel came up to us in ridiculous costumes. "And who're you two supposed to be?"

Tom took a puff from his joint and said in a desperate attempt at a British accent, "Bond, James Bond."

Angel, flipping her blonde wig, smiled and said, "And Pussy Galore... in person!" Mark laughed as I kissed him on the cheek again and went off with Tom and Angel.

"Hey baby!" I heard Maureen yell, but I tuned them out when Tom handed me my own joint.

"Why thank you, Mr. Bond." I laughed, and puffed some. By about three o'clock, I was tripping over my own feet, even the air, and I couldn't stop laughing for the life of me. Tom was hanging onto Angel's shoulder and laughing just as hard as I was. "Hey, hey Tom." I said after a while, the giggles still in my voice. "Let's go on the roof and sing Christmas carols!" I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the nearest fire escape, Angel clucking like a mother hen behind us.

"Come on, baby, you're high!" she called after us, and I just kept laughing and climbing up the rusty fire escape. When we got up there, we gave one look at each other, then started squaredancing and singing Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

"Dude, c'mhere. Listen to this." Tom stood at the edge of the rooftop, and screamed, "I LOVE ANGEL DUMOTT SCHUNARD!" He grinned at me. "Your turn, lil' cous."

That pet name, the one the guys had given to me when we were fresh out of grammar school, rang in my ears as the only voice I could think of in my high: Mark's. "I got it." I grinned maliciously, and climbed up on the edge of the rooftop. "I LOVE YOU, MARK COHEN!" And then BAM. It hit me, what I had just said, ringing back into my ears along with Tom's shocked, "Dammn..." I climbed down off the edge, gave an awkward smile to Tom, and rushed off the ladder, avoiding everyone's gaze. I headed to the one place I remembered, no matter how stoned I was: the apartment.

I sat down on the cold metal floor and rested my head against the large pole in the middle of the room. It felt good, and I jumped when I heard the door slam open and unfamiliar voices rush in. "Wahh?" I murmured in my daze, and stood up to see Benny ushering in shady-looking movers with a stony look on his face. "You bastard!" I shouted, and he turned around and smiled.

"Kiley... so glad to see you again..." he said through clenched teeth, and I scowled at him.

"What are you doing? Why are you taking our stuff?" I tried grabbing stuff back from the movers, but it only fell through weakened fingers. "No! Leave the blankets!" I said meekly, and the mover hastily shoved the blankets in my hands. I wrapped the biggest one around me and turned back to Benny. "Well?"

"Your cousin and his friend wouldn't pay the rent... are you okay?" He sounded concerned when he asked me that, and when he reached toward me, I backed up.

"You... and your little friends from Cyberland or whatever it's called... get the hell out of our apartment! So we can't effing afford your damn RENT, just leave us alone!" I muttered with as much force as I could muster, and Benny sighed and shook his head.

"Well, boys, I think that's about it. I'll be seeing you, Kiley." He made an attempt to hug me, but my stoned - not stony - glare must have driven him off, because he waved a bit and left, taking our furniture with him. I couldn't help it after that: I sat on the floor and cried until the sun came up. When it did, I was out like a light. Until...

"Hey, man, where's our stuff?" I heard Roger's voice say, and I bolted up.

"Roger! Mark!" I yelled, and ran into Mark's open arms. He looked confused, and Roger asked,

"Kiley... where'd our stuff go?" I took a deep breath and said as fast as my lack of energy would let me:

"Benny and his little friends from CyberArts came here and took all our shit because we couldn't pay rent! I tried to stop him, really, I did, but they only left the blankets, Rog!" I was breathing quickly now, and Mark started rubbing my head. It felt good, and Tom started to giggle.

"Ahah, Benny prolly knew you were stoned..." he laughed louder, head lolling on his chest. Mark stopped stroking my head for a second and lifted my chin, checking my eyes.

"Damn it, Kiley. You are!" I guess my eyes were bloodshot, because he held onto me tighter, and he was probably glaring at Tom for me, because Tom just kept laughing.

"Man... didn't you hear her? I think the entire Alphabet City heard her scream!" he cackled, and I felt all eyes on me as I pulled my head off Mark's chest, my face hot and a grin plastered on my face.

"Yeah... about that... heh." I backed up slowly, trying not to laugh to hard, when I tripped over Tom's outstretched feet.

"AHA! You fell over!" he slurred, and I scowled at him. "And anyway, I'm sure Mr. Happy-Camera didn't hear what you said, girl."

My tongue felt like it was stuck to the roof of my mouth as I sat with my back against the wall, across from Tom, who was sitting where I fell asleep. "Look... let's just act like that never happened." I whispered, and the whisper came easier then talking normal volume. "If he doesn't know... then he doesn't need to know." Tom nodded and took another puff from his joint.

"So no more joint for the lil' cous!" he cackled, and the other six looked up from their conversation about money and Buzzline and rent to stare at us. Mimi raised an eyebrow in suspicion and then smiled.

"Hey, Mark. Did you hear someone scream 'I love you, Mark Cohen' last night, at around three?" Tom asked loudly, laying on the ground. Mark took one glance at me then nodded. "Yeah, boy, that was me! AHAHAHA!" Tom was overcome with glee at his little joke, and none of us could resist laughing at the sight of a large black man rolling on the floor of an empty apartment, giggling like a schoolgirl. I leaned my head back against the wall and shut my eyes, and before I knew it, I was asleep. Although I did feel someone pick me up, carry me somewhere, and re-adjust the blankets. But the one thing I remember clearly is someone kissing me on the forehead and stroking my cheek, and me smiling in my sleep.

And that, of course, was followed by giggles from the peanut gallery, but I prefer to forget those.

***

I woke up the next morning with a massive headache and rolled around so I could look next to me. Mark was curled up on the floor across from me, reading a book with his back against the wall. He saw my eyes were open and smiled.

"Morning, Miss Stoner." he laughed, and I scowled.

"Ha-ha." I growled, and stood up, stretching as far up as I could. "Jesus Christ... what the hell happened last night?" I asked, and I was quite sure I didn't sound like myself, because Mark came rushing over and held me steady. He sighed before explaining last night's events to me, and I nodded. "That would be pretty accurate." I said, plopping back down on my blankets and scaring Mark to death; he thought I was fainting. "AHAH! Are you okay, Marky?" He sat down next to me and I put my head on his shoulder. "Man... never again... what a way to start 1990, huh?"

Mark pulled a headband, or really, a streamer that I was using as a headband, off of my head that said HAPPY 1990 all over it, and I smiled meekly. "Wow." he said simply, and he got up to throw it out the window into the trash can below. "Man, you are a wreck. Are you sure you're okay? We have a Life Support meeting in two hours, wanna go make yourself look, err, dec-"

He was about to say 'decent' until I glanced momentarily at him, the meek smile still on my face. My eyes were probably still bloodshot, because he shook his head and said,

"Why don't you go make yourself look pretty. It'll do you some good." He helped me up and I hugged him as soon as I was on my feet. He hugged me back, and I let go of him and went into the bathroom.

"Ugh! Thank God they couldn't take the plumbing!" I shouted, and I heard laughs from the boys outside, accompanied by,

"Hey, Pot Head! Leave some hot water for me!" _Tom,_ I laughed to myself, locked the bathroom door, and started the shower. The warm water felt really good, and when I got out and got a towel on, I wiped off the mirror and looked at the reflection, which was staring at me curiously.

My eyes were indeed bloodshot, and they were dark all around. There was a red spot on my cheek from where I had slept, and the spot on my head where Mark had kissed me last night was tingling, maybe just self-conciously? I laughed at myself again, and unlocked the door. Thank God I didn't have to walk through the main room, because then I could get through Roger's room straight to Mark's and mine without getting harrassed by the latter. I rooted through the hamper, grimacing, and even though the clothes weren't dirty, I sighed and pulled out my suitcase from the hole in the wall.

When I walked out in fresh clothes, Mark and Roger seemed a tad jealous. "Where'd you get the clean clothes, Kiley?" Roger asked, looking up at me from his seat on the ground.

"I left my suitcase in that little cubbyhole in the wall." I said blissfully, sitting in between Tom and Mark. Mark grabbed my hand and Tom started giggling.

"Hey, lil' cous! You just got over your wild night, huh?" he asked, punching me in the arm. I glared at him, then laughed and nodded. He seemed entertained by my response, and after a glance at his watch, he straightened up and looked at Angel. "Hey, girl, we gotta go."

"To the Life Support meeting?" Mark asked, and Tom shook his head.

"Nahh. Angel baby has a doctor's appointment. And since we both needed a, err, 'checkup,' I scheduled one, too. So tell Paul we're gonna be a bit late." Tom said quickly, tugging on Angel's hand. We waved goodbye to them, and that just left the three of us sitting on the floor, wondering the exact same thing:

How long do we have until they're gone?


	7. Remember, Marky?

I was still half asleep as we walked out of the loft to get to the Life Support meeting on time. Mimi was coming with us this time, Roger had finally convinced her. I smiled as I remembered me and Mark giving him a hard time for being the one not wanting to go in the first place. The only words we heard out of his mouth were, "... want the best for her..." and that sent Mark and me spiralling into giggles. Fast forward to now, gripping onto Mark's hand in a desperate attempt in defense against the bitter cold. Hah. And I mean DESPERATE. Mimi and Roger were holding onto each other and hugging as if nothing was wrong in the world, when tomorrow they would be arguing about something or other. I shivered a little, thinking about what would happen if our little group split up, and Mark mistook that for being cold. Now, I wasn't arguing, the feeling of his arm wrapped over my shoulders was amazing, but those tingles I got... they weren't new... but I wasn't sure if I was ready to believe that I was truly falling in love with Mark Cohen again.

***

"Hey, Paulie!" I said, my usual chipper voice back as I threw my coat at Mark, who fumbled with it and placed it on a hanger in the coat rack. "Listen, Angel and Tom are gonna be a bit late... doctor's appointment." Paul nodded understandingly, and Mimi waved.

"Hi, I'm Mimi, Mimi Marquez. Roger's girlfriend." she said, beaming up at him. She was wearing her favorite jacket, the cheetah print, with the collar flipped up to cover her ears. And that day, I learned a lot about the other side of AIDS, the recieving, and the knowing... why Mimi got her jacket... and then Angel and Tom walked in, looking like they were having the time of their lives.

"Heey, Camera Boy and Pot Head!" Tom exclaimed, mussing Mark's hair first, then, upon realizing his hands were coated in hair gel, he hastened to rub it off on mine. He and Angel sat in their regular seats, and Mimi pulled up a chair in between Roger and Gordon. And the discussion started, Mark's camera clicking and turning and my pencil scribbling on my small notepad. I was running out of pages, but I was quite sure my story wasn't over.

***

After the meeting, we walked out of the community center, laughing and chatting, and, in mine, Mimi's, and Angel's case, singing loud rock songs. It felt great, not having a care in the world, even if we should. But I had to say, things got awkward when Roger pulled me aside.

"Hey, Kile." he asked casually, after we sat down at the other end of the subway car, separate from where the other four were. "Listen... answer this honestly. Are you falling in love with Mark?"

Damn. I couldn't say I wasn't expecting that question, but it still took me aback. I took a deep breath and smiled at my older cousin, it felt like high school when he asked me if I was on drugs, which I was not. But the answer to this question was different.

"Rog," I started, "I'm going to answer you honestly, just like you asked. I'm not going to say no. I'm not going to say I'm not sure. Hell, I'm pretty sure. But what I'm not sure of is if the feelings are mutual, and if they are, we can try again." It felt like a load was lifted off my shoulders, and I looked up at Roger. He seemed to be contemplating the honesty of my answer, along with what he should say. When he smiled, I started laughing. "What?"

"Well... the sad part is, Mark's answer was almost the exact same as yours when Collins asked him. He just said it without the swear word, if you're wondering what was different about it." Roger laughed, and he turned around to face Tom, who winked. Roger gave him a thumbs up, then turned back to me. "We kinda started thinking that way after he told me what happened on New Year's Eve, Collins told me. That's why I'm worried about you and drugs." It was a really fuzzy moment, but right then and there, with the expression on Roger's face, I realized my tough-as-a-rock-cool-as-a-cucumber older cousin was really just a, he would kill me for saying this, big ol' softie. I smiled to myself as I thought this, and he shot a confused glance my way. I shrugged, shook my head, and laughed.

"Nothing, cous. Now, let's go join the party... we'll break the news to Marky when we get home, okay?" Roger nodded, the situation had gotten a bit awkward, and we headed back to the group.

"What was that all about?" Mark asked, holding his camera up at Roger and me.

"He was telling me off because he's always told me, 'Just say no...' but no. I said yes because I LURVE TOM AND HE IS MY BEST FRIEND FOR LIFE!" I shouted, causing every other passenger in the car alarm as I threw my arms around Tom in a vice grip. He pulled me into one similar, and it went on like that until it was our stop.

"Alright, you guys. We'll be at the loft around six for dinner!" Tom called, teasing us for our lack of furniture as he and Angel went off to their apartment.

"Uhm, I think that would be the other way around!" Mark called after them, laughing, and we set back to the apartment building. Once we got inside, Mimi and Roger exchanged an evil grin and looked at Mark and I. Mark was up against the wall, winding up his camera, and I was sitting on the floor, playing with a lock of hair and complaining about how we had no furniture just to get on Mark's nerves.

"Marky." "What?" "I want the couch back." "Me, too, but we can't do anything about that now." "MARKY." "What?!" "I want the goddamned couch back!" Mark sighed, and plopped down on the floor next to me. Once that happened, Mimi and Roger took that as their time to strike.

"Hey. Don't you two have something to tell each other?" Roger asked, sitting down on the floor across from us. We glanced at each other, blushed a little, then turned back to Roger.

"Whatever to you mean, elder cousin?" I asked, trying to keep a straight face as I put on my innocent voice. I pouted a bit, and Roger only gave me the no-shit look.

"Oh, you two know what I mean!" Roger said, throwing his hands over his head. Mimi sat down next to Roger and took a deep breath.

"Alright. Mark, you love Kiley. Kiley, you love Mark. You're not sure if one likes the other back, and if the relationship will work after the hellish high school years and that cute little moment of Kiley's five years ago. And now that you've been spending so much time with each other, you're really starting to get used to each other and you're not sure whether you should keep the little best friend's cousin/cousin's best friend HANDS OFF relationship because you live with the cousin/best friend and it'll be awkward or whether you guys should just say, 'Hell to the world!' and go out." Mark and I looked at each other. The blush creeping up his cheeks and the heat rising in mine made me think: Dammn. Mimi just hit the nail on the head. Mark was the first one to speak in about five minutes of me avoiding everyone's eyes, Mimi smiling smugly, and Roger looking confused.

"Has this happened to you before, Mimi? Because I think Kiley and I will both agree: that was really, REALLY accurate." He looked at me, and I shrugged and nodded.

"Ehh, he's right." I said, trying to sound reluctant. The truth was, I was excited. Ecstatic. Anxious. Mark laughed, he saw right through my fake cool.

"Oh, come on, you're happier than that." He walked over to me and tugged up the corners of my mouth, making me smile. I started laughing and swatting away his hands, and he thought my childish behavior was... amusing. Roger smiled and high fived Mimi.

"See? You two are getting along already!" Mark and I couldn't disagree with that, and we smiled at each other for the first time since we had come to terms with how we felt. Hah. That sounded so cheesy. But it was true. Roger and Mimi exchanged one last glance and Mimi turned to us.

"We'll leave you two _lovebirds_ alone." she said jokingly, and took Roger's hand. "If you need us, we'll be downstairs." She winked at Roger, and Roger shot a helpless glance back at us. I waved to him and Mark saluted. When they left, we looked at each other and started laughing. Hard. And then the laughter stopped, and we were left looking at each other, in our somewhat love-glorified daze, and this was the only time I got a good look at Mark.

His hair was spiked hopelessly. I could fix that. His tan jacket was beaten and 'bruised.' I could fix that. That scarf, though. The blue and white scarf made me smile every time I saw it. I was smiling now, and I saw Mark's hands go up. He had his camera in tow, as always. And I remembered when he got that camera. It was the first day we met, I was in town, staying with Roger, during Mark's... what was it? Tenth?... birthday party. It was a boys' only party, but Roger wanted me to go meet all his friends. he had been tlaking to Mark about letting me come for weeks before, and Mark had finally given in. His face when he saw me, the little butch of a thing at nine, wearing my older brother's flannel shirt and overalls, and, of course, my little Chuck Taylors, was priceless. I still laugh a little when I picture my little braids and freckles. But we'd hit it off the moment we met. We both liked the news, except he watched it on the television and I read the papers, even though I was in fourth grade. We had sat by ourselves, talking about our futures in journalism. He wanted to make a famous movie, and I wanted to write a book.

I never thought of how much my dreams hadn't changed.

And then came the gifts. They were all from his parents, considering the fact they were overprotective and afraid of what his friends would get him. The largest one was wrapped in the Sunday comics, and he unwrapped it with glee, he already knew what it was, his older sister Cindy told him. And out of the shoebox, he pulled the very camera he was pointing at me. And I was his first film subject.

"Hey, Mark." I said suddenly, and that made him jump.

"What?" he asked, keeping the camera trained on me.

"Do you remember. Your tenth birthday, when we first met? The day after, before I left Scarsdale?" He nodded, and I smiled and went out on the fire escape. "I was the first person you ever got footage of. We were talking about what we were gonna do when we grew up, when we got the hell out of the suburbs." I laughed and leaned over the railing. "Do you remember that, Marky?"

"Yeah," came a voice from right next to me. I whipped around to see Mark standing right next to me, and I exhaled and laughed again. "My parents heard us talking about it and flipped shit on me. But Cindy promised that if I did wanna get away, she would cover for me." he laughed, a little too bitterly. "Man. If only her kids knew how cool she was when we were younger." I laughed and moved closer to him.

"The city looks so pretty at night." I said quietly, and Mark's hand brushed through my hair.

"Yeah. It does." he said just as quietly, and I hugged him.

"Do you remember high school, Marky? When I used to call Roger when we were out on a date and he would ditch April just to come and see what was wrong?" I asked him, turning around so that his hands were on the railings of the fire escape and I was in between. He laughed and nodded. "Why don't we do that right now? I mean, Mimi looked serious" Mark laughed again, and pointed the camera back at me.

"Let's go prank Roger." I said into the camera with a maniacal grin. I ran inside, grabbed the phone, and dialed Mimi's number. After I rolled my eyes through the voicemail, I yelled, "ROGER! GET YER SKINNY-LITTLE-FLANNEL-WEARING-ASS UP HERE!" I heard Mark's laughter ringing through the empty apartment as two sets of footsteps stomped up the stairs. Roger flung the door open, face flushed and shirt half-unbuttoned. Mimi was behind him, looking angry with her hair all messed up.

"What? What's wrong?" he said, looking back and forth from Mark and I. We were both laughing too hard to tell him how stupid he looked, but we did gather enough breath to, well, breathe again.

"We-we were gonna meet Tom and Angel for dinner, re-remember?" I wheezed, and Mark slammed my back. Roger rolled his eyes and went into his room to make himself look decent, and Mimi started laughing as soon as he left the room.

Remember. That seemed to be the key word that night.


	8. A Little Encounter with Benny

The sun hadn't even risen yet when I got up the next morning. I shook my head a bit, trying to clear the morning fuzzies, and saw an extra blanket had been tossed over me... and Mark had one less. I smiled, and threw the blanket back over him before kissing him on the cheek. Yeah, we didn't have furniture. Or heat. Or power. Or money. But we all had each other, and there was nothing too bad about that... unless all you had was Roger during a mood swing. Then yeah, you were screwed. I laughed to myself as I pulled on Roger's flannel pants, that he had left lying on the ground after dinner last night, and Mark's scarf and jacket, so I was comfortable as hell in the beginning of January. I saved one last smile to myself as I walked to the cafe I had found the first night I was here.

"One Holiday coffee, please." I muttered to the hostess, and she nodded happily. Maybe not many people bought that kind? I didn't know. But I did know, that before the hostess could come back to ask me if I wanted a raisin scone with my coffee, Benjamin Coffin III, the Enemy of Avenue A, had sat down across from me, looking very displeased with himself. I scowled at him, and when he looked up at me, he jumped.

"Jesus Christ, Kiley, you could've told me it was you!" Benny said, clutching at his chest.

"Well, who the hell else could it be?" Benny motioned down at the scarf and tan jacket. I nodded in understanding and put on my 'game face.' "What do you want, Coffin?" He smiled, the same way he had at Maureen's protest, the same way he had at the Life Cafe. I glowered at him a bit more, and he exhaled.

"Can't I get a cup of coffee without getting daggers shot at me?" he asked innocently, and I didn't believe a word he said. "What did I do wrong? You guys are the squatters, you guys wouldn't pay rent!"

"We wouldn't be squatters if you hadn't worried about the rent. We don't have the money, Benny!" I spat at him, putting as much venom into the words as I could. "You didn't have to take our furniture, at least! I mean, I thought you were nice, damn it!" I slammed my fists on the table and stood up, downing my coffee.

"Look, Kiley, listen..." Benny started in that sleazy tone I knew all too well.

"Yeah. That's exactly what you said after I broke up with you. But I'm blind and deaf to what you have to say, Coffin. So don't bother." Just as I was planning my dramatic exit, I ran into Mimi. I smiled nervously, knowing she had heard what I just said. But she just smiled back and said to Benny,

"See, Benny? I'm not the only ex who thinks you're a piece of shit." she laughed, and we walked out of the cafe arm in arm.

"Yeah, go have fun with your loser boyfriends." he shouted, "Let's just hope you two'll come to your senses." Once the door closed, we started cracking up.

"So you went out with Benny, too?" Mimi asked, and I nodded.

"Like, five years ago. Before I went to London." I said, "And you too?"

"Yupp. Two months before he got married. It was funny, really, he broke up with me, saying he found another girl, and then WAM-MO. He's married to the daughter of the hot-shot landlord who changes wives more than he changes his socks." she grimaced, and we looked at each other and started laughing again.

"Are the boys up yet? I feel kind of bad, I took their stuff." I motioned to the scarf and jacket, then to the flannel sweatpants.

"No, they're not up." Mimi replied, tugging on my- I mean, Mark's- scarf. "Let's get back to the apartment before they do, though." We spent the walk home with a little Q&A. She would ask me about Roger, and I would be delighted to answer. And then the question got to the flannel pants. "How long has Roger had them? They seem to fit you pretty well..."

"Oh, these ratty old things? He's had them since high school." I said, laughing. "I used to steal them a lot, then mess up my hair and play air guitar. We would all play, 'Lookit Roger in his flannel pants...'" I started cracking up even harder at the memory of standing on the cafeteria tables and singing one of Roger's songs.

"Wow. Sounds like fun. Well, while you, Mark, Roger, and Collins were having fun in Scarsdale, I was stuck here, going to P.S. 173." Mimi said, her laugh was now bitter. But before I could comfort her, we reached her floor on the fire escape.

"Well, I guess this is your stop!" I said cheerfully, and opened the window to let her into the large, empty apartment. "I guess I'll see you later, chica!"

"Adios, chica! Hasta la vista!" she called, and climbed, almost cat-like, into her apartment. "I'll see you, around, say seven?"

"Seven!" I said, and climbed up to our fire escape. Once I got inside, I checked on Mark and Roger. They were still asleep, thank God, so I peeled off the jacket and scarf, placing them back where they were, and the pants back on the floor, exactly where Roger left them.

But as soon as I got curled back up in my blankets, I heard Mark move once, twice, and eventually heard feet on the floor. I decided to be sneaky and jump on his back when he wasn't paying attention, but as soon as I was about to jump, tom slammed the door open, causing Mark and I to scream. When he turned around to face me, I was still on my tiptoes. I waved at him and blushed: what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"Hey bitches!" Tom cackled, leading Angel in on his arm. Angel waved a pinkie at us, and we chorused, "Hey guys, what's up?"

"Heard you two lovebirds finally figured out you were lovebirds." Angel beamed.

"Yeah, se parece al huevo consiguió su sal." I grinned, and Angel and Tom looked at each other and started laughing. Mark looked confused, and I put a hand on his arm. "Later, baby. I'll explain later."

"Looks like little chica learned Spanish." Tom laughed, and I nodded. Mark, feeling a little left out, wrapped his arms around my waist.

"So... what brings you guys here?" Mark asked, and I nuzzled my face into his neck.

"We wanted to know if we should go out for dinner tonight; you can invite Joanne and Maureen and it'll be a quadruple date." Angel said happily, bouncing up and down. "And even if you two weren't dating now, we would've made you come anyway." Tom leaned against an imaginary couch as he took a puff on his joint. He offered it in my direction, but I turned it down, mouthing, "Later." and winking. Mark looked down at me to see my answer, and I placed my chin on his chest and grinned up at him. He rolled his eyes, and just then, Roger stomped in.

"What the hell to I owe this pleasant awakening?" he murmured, rubbing his eyes and sitting on the nonexistent couch, which resulted in plopping down on the hard ground. Just as the windows stopped rattling, Mimi walked in, giggling.

"I figured Roger was up when I heard the THUD." she said, and helped Roger up as Tom and I erupted with laughter.

"THUD!" we screamed together, and jumped hard on the floor. We doubled over, wheezing for no apparent reason.

"Alright, if Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber would compose themselves, Tom, I'll be getting ready." Angel said as-a-matter-of-factly. Tom quickly stood up and brushed himself off, saluting at us and rushing out the door after Angel. Roger glanced at the remaining three of us, and walked back into his room to change into fresh clothes from high school he had been hiding under the floorboards. Mark exhaled in the awkward silence,

"You two wanna go get something to eat? Roger's gonna be in there a while." We heard a huff and a groan from the other room, and then Roger yelling,

"No'm not!" He sounded strained, and Mimi giggled.

"I'll go help him; you two need some alone time." She winked and walked into Roger's room, tsking. Mark and I shot one last glance at each other and I grabbed his hand.

"Well... let's go!" I shouted, and ran out of the apartment, pulling him down with me.


	9. I Just Sold My Soul

Fast forward a few days, maybe a week. I've lost track of time by now. Maureen and Joanne have been over a lot lately, trying to convince Mark to take the Buzzline job he had been offered after he had sold Maureen's protest tape. Today, Roger and I were lying on the ground in the empty apartment.

"Mark, just take the damn job." Roger said lazily, strumming a few notes on his Fender.

"Yeah Mark. Honestly. It's not like you're selling your soul to Satan. Do Jews even believe in Satan?" I looked at Roger, and he shrugged. Mark sighed.

"It's not like that. I feel like... if I start working for Buzzline... my creative-ness would be depleted." I think this was the point where we realized we really did need furniture. I mean, who can have those moments where you place your elbow on the table and say, 'Woe is me' without something to put your elbow on? I stretched and yawned, then glared at Mark.

"C'mon, Marky, even though we're still getting paid royalties for Maureen's protest, it's not enough to get us by." I pleaded, putting on my best Maureen face. Mark couldn't help but smile at that, and he nodded.

"Fine. Joanne, come on. We're going to the Buzzline offices." he said reluctantly, Roger and I high-fived, and Maureen squealed.

"Yay! Marky's gonna be famous!" she said, hugging Mark tightly. He seemed to be enjoying all the attention as Joanne shook his hand and I ran over to him and hugged him, probably tighter than Maureen. I gave him a quick kiss on the lips so he could go off to 'coporate America' with the two girls, and just as we heard the downstairs door slam, Mimi, Angel, and Tom walked in.

"Hey, bitches!" Tom gave us the usual greeting; Roger waved his guitar and I nodded with a slight salute. Angel and Mimi were smiling at me, so I raised an eyebrow.

"What're you two planning...?" Tom rolled his eyes and puffed on his joint.

"They wanna take you for a girl's day out. I told 'em to take Mark instead and let us show you how to have a good time, but no... they say now that you've got a boyfriend, you gotta look prettier than you normally do." he explained, acting sheepish as he stated the last part, and I pinched his cheek.

"Why thank you, Thomas!" I laughed, and turned to Mimi and Angel, hands outstretched referring to handcuffing. "I have the right to remain silent, anything I say or do will probably result in an extra coat of nail polish or another outfit bought." I said, trying to keep from laughing this time. But when they nodded, I got a bit nervous.

"Come on, chica!" Angel said, and she and Mimi worked together to pull me out of the apartment.

"Thomas! Roger...mas!" I called out, "I thought you were my best friend! My _cousin!_" They laughed at me, and Roger started playing his guitar again. I grimaced/smiled at Mimi and Angel and let them drag me out. "Love you guys, too!"

We were out on the streets, laughing and tripping over our own feet within five minutes. We were sharing stories about our boyfriends, who were as tight as we were, and we learned a lot about each other. "So there was this one time, in high school. Mark was filming a football game, right on the sidelines. And then, all of a sudden, this HUGE linebacker comes out of NOWHERE and WAMM. Down he goes." I laughed thinking about it, and lingered to mention the fact that I had run down off the bleachers not to his aid, but to punch the opposing linebacker who had tackled him. And everyone was too shocked that Roger Davis' quiet little journalistic cousin had punched someone five times her size to contradict anything.

"I remember when Tom made me Christmas dinner, and he set the ham on fire." Angel cackled, and it was Mimi's turn.

"Well, I remember Benny's face when he figured out I was dating Roger. We had a fling once, it was nothing, but it still kind of hurts." Mimi looked guilty, so I threw my arm over her shoulders.

"Eh, I had a fling with him once, too. 'Twas nothing, I dumped him on his ass once he moved out and started being a bastard." I snarled, thinking about the night we were in the Life Cafe. "He decided he was going to get in with the Greys somehow and buy our apartment building, but after he and Mark had their little spat..." I got some curious glances after I said Mark's name.

"What the hell would Mark and Benny argue about?" Angel's Spanish Harlem voice was kicking in, and there was no avoiding answering the question. I smiled uncomfortably as we walked into the nail salon and Angel spoke in rapid Spanish with the girl at the counter, who directed us hastily to the pedicure and manicure section. I felt a reluctant smirk coming over my face as Mimi picked a fiery red color for me and I took a deep breath.

"It was when Benny and I started dating, and before Mark started dating Maureen. He still liked me a bit, and he was convinced Benny wasn't treating me right." I hesitated a second, and Mimi popped in,

"Why? How was he treating you?" she asked, sounding curious. The reluctant smirk crept back up and I started giggling.

"Oh, how he treats every girlfriend, like his queen one day, and like shit for the rest of the week. He would leave me to sit alone in the loft to help Mark with his footage and Roger with his music. But back then, he had April." It was strange, telling all of this stuff to people who knew Benny as the 'yuppie scum' and April as 'Roger's dead ex.' But I suppose it was enlightening.

"And what did our little amante de cámara de albino say to the verdín de yuppie?" Angel said, and it took me a while to think about what she was saying.

"Well, our little albino camera lover said that our yuppie scum was being a jerk for leaving me alone so often, and I needed to get out more, and that if Benny wasn't going to take me out, he was, and believe me, Mark was a hell of a lot more fun, and at the time, I would've broken up with Benny in a second and gone out with Mark again, but I guess the fact I was the one keeping the apartment free. And I suppose Benny still has hard feelings because I brought up the fact I would've taken up Mark's offer in a ten-fold. That was the year I jumped off the fire escape." I smiled at the recollection, and considering the fact Angel and Mimi were smiling the same way, they had been told the story.

"When I was dating him, he did mentioned how he dated a lunatic. But I brushed it off, considering the fact he was a bit of a jerk, even when we first met. But then he dumped me on my ass when he met Allison Grey." Mimi said, but she didn't sound sad this time. She was giggling now. The door swung open and the bells rang, in walked a small, mousy-brown haired girl walked in and Mimi and Angel scowled.

"Hablando del Rey de Roma y el diablo vendrá..." Angel said, and this I recognized right away as "Speak of the devil and the devil shall come."

"That's Allison." Mimi whispered, and kept glaring. As soon as she sat down, Angel got up and we followed suit.

As soon as we got out the door, we started giggling, collapsing over each other. "Now let's get some material, chica!" Angel cackled, kicking one leg high in the air.

"We're making our own clothes?" I said nervously. I was rather clumsy with a needle, but I suppose could mend Mark's coat with some new fabric... or I could rip up Roger's flannel pants.

"Ahaha, no. I meant material as in clothes, ganso tonto!" Angel laughed, and I sighed in relief.

"Thank God. The last thing I sewed was my own stitches. That did not end well." I lifted up my sweater sleeve to show the long scar, accompanied by dots all over my arm where the needle had ended up. Mimi gasped, and Angel started laughing.

It took us ten minutes to get to the nearest clothing store, and even longer to get out of there. Mimi and Angel insisted that each of us get a little black dress and a little red dress, and who was I to argue? They wanted me to look pretty, they already were pretty. Ahahaha.

***

By the time we ran out of money, we each had about five shopping bags for each of us, one bag was for our boys. I hadn't got much for Mark, just a new jacket, a few nicer shirts, and a couple of ties for his new mainstream job. It was then Angel's idea to take us to Coporate America, where we could perform on the street and get money from bleeding-heart passerbys. Angel was out of drag, and Mimi looked more like a druggie than usual. Now, me? I looked like someone's little sister, and if anyone asked, Angel and Mimi were brother and sister and I was adopted. We laughed at our story, Mimi took a guitar from the local music store after flirting with the teenager at the counter and I got a playbill for Grease from one of the slimy newsstand owners. Angel, as always, was carrying around her white bucket, and we sat down on a street corner and started performing Greased Lightning, my cap flipped over next to a lamppost. People were dropping quarters and nickels in there by the five minutes that had passed, and we were onto another song, one of Roger's old ones he taught Mimi.

But, of course, I couldn't help but hop around and dance until I looked across the street and saw Maureen down on her knees in front of Joanne, and Mark behind them looking quite awkward. When I saw them, I changed the song in a split second to "White Wedding," which was the song we normally sang when we were bored. Mark lifted his head and started laughing, and Joanne turned her head with Maureen looking around her.

"Marky!" I yelled, running across the street and slamming into him. Angel and Mimi followed, amused and carrying their instruments. "Oh, Marky, did you take the job?"

"Yes, I did, and I feel like I just sold my soul, as Joanne puts it, 'for three grand a segment.'" He shot a joking glare in Joanne's direction, who was holding onto Maureen lovingly.

"We just got engaged." Maureen said, sounding excited, but if I knew her better, she was still same old commitment-phobic Maureen. Joanne looked ecstatic, though, so we all put on fake smiles.

"Awwh! Yay!" Mimi squealed, grabbing the two girls in a vice grip.

"We HAVE to plan your wedding." Angel laughed, and we all knew what would happen if we planned the wedding:

"I GET TO SING WHITE WEDDING!" I yelled, hopping up and down and swinging Mark's arms around.

* * *

**A/N ~ Sorry I haven't added a chapter, or an author's note, but I just wanted to saay...**

**THANK YOU JONATHAN LARSON! 3**

**And sorry I haven't added a chapter in FOREVER, I have a goal set with every chapter, over 1,500 words..I'm an overachiever, like Kiley. :) The past two chapters have been rather random, but I suppose y'all ---(random country moment.) know what's coming next, TAKE ME OR LEAVE MEEEE. Ahahahah. Well... R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :DDDDDDDDDDDD Because you know you love me and Kiley. ;D**


	10. Take Me or Leave Me

**Here we go... the oh-so-fabulous Maureen Johnson and Joanne Jefferson in... TAKE ME OR LEAVE ME.**

I was sitting on Mark's lap in the reception hall. It was Valentine's Day, or, as Maureen put it, 'More importantly, our engagement party.' It wasn't a very formal event, so I was wearing Roger's flannel pants and an old and beat up white dress of Mimi's.

"Hey, Marky." I whispered in his ear while Joanne's parents were making their speech, "Happy Valentine's Day." Mark laughed quietly and replied,

"Yes. Yes it is." I pecked him on the cheek, and Joanne's mother said,

"So let's raise our glass for Joanne, and her wonderful choice of a life partner, Maureen Johnson!" We all stood up, and I hugged Joanne.

"You got engaged-ded-ded-ded!" I exclaimed. So Tom and I had a few puffs on a joint before we came. We were confused. My next hug went to Maureen, and that resulted in a peck of red lipstick on my cheek. "Oh, Mo baby, I'm so happy for you!"

"Thanks, Kiley!" she laughed, and went off. I walked back over to Mark, who was saying to Joanne,

"You know, I really didn't have a chance to congratulate her..." I clung onto his arm as I tripped over Tom's large Birkenstocks. He smiled at me, and Joanne stalked off after seeing Maureen flirting with the girl behind the champagne cart.

"Hey, Marky!" I repeated, and he looked at me. I smiled when I saw his big blue eyes, and I spiked up his hair a bit.

"Is that what you wanted?" he said, pushing my hair behind my ear. Angel had attempted to help, but... it failed. We were just about to have our own cute little moment when all of a sudden,

"WOMEN IN RUBBER WILL ALWAYS BE FLIRTING WITH ME!" rang through the reception hall.

"Oh shit." I muttered into Marky's shoulder, and Maureen grinned at Joanne and started singing,

"Every single day, I walk down the street.

I hear people say, 'Baby, so sweet.'

Every since puberty, everybody stares at me! Boys, girls, I can't help it baby...

So be kind, and don't lose your mind,

Just remember that I'm your baby!

Take me for what I am, who I was meant to be...

And if you give a damn, take me baby, or leave me...

Take me baby or leave me!"

She hopped up on the little table that held the ice sculpture, and I really wondered who was high. Mark was watching in shock, Angel and Tom were giggling, Mimi was cracking up, and Roger was smiling at her.

"A tiger in a cage, can never see the sun!

And this diva needs her stage, baby, let's have fun! You are the one I choose,

Folks would KILL to fill your shoes, you love the limelight too, now, baby...

So be mine,

And don't waste my time...

Cryin', oh honeybear, are you still my, my baby?!"

Joanne interrupted before Maureen could peel off her tank top, "Don't you dare!" She chased her around the table as she continued,

"Take me for what I am, who I was meant to be...

And if you give a damn, take me baby, or leave me...

Take me baby or leave me!

No way! Can I be what I'm not,

But hey! Don't you want your girl HOT?!

Don't fight, don't lose your head, 'cause every night, who's in your bed, who?"

Maureen had cornered Joanne on the steps, and we had all clustered around at the bottom.

"Who's in your bed? Kiss Pookie!"

Joanne scowled and replied, "It won't work!

I look before I leap, I love margins and discipline, I make lists in my sleep, baby, what's my sin?

Never quit, I follow through,

I hate mess but I love you!

What to do with my impromptu, baby?

So be wise, 'cause this girl satisfies!

You got a prize who don't compromise, you're one lucky baby!"

Joanne peeled off her coat and stood on the stairs with her arms raised, and we all whooped and cheered as she sang,

"Take me for what I am!"

"A control freak." Maureen interjected, picking up Joanne's jacket and following her down the stairs.

"Who I was meant to be!"

"A snob, yet overattentive."

"And if you give a damn..."

"A lovable, droll, GEEK."

"Take me baby, or leave me!"

"And ANAL RETENTIVE!"

"THAT'S IT!" they chorused, walked into the billiards room. "The straw that breaks my back. I QUIT! Unless you take it back! Women, what is it about them? Can't live, with them or without them!

Take me for what I am, who I was meant to be...

And if you give a damn, take me baby, or leave me...

Take me baby or leave me!

Oh, take me baby, take me or leave me!

Take me baby... or leave me. Guess I'm leaving, I'm gone!" They both stormed out of the room in opposite directions, leaving the rest of us to giggle under our breaths. In the shock, Maureen's mother turned to Mark.

"Maybe now you two can get back together!" she suggested, and Mark looked taken aback as a grin creeped up my face.

"Hi, Mrs. Johnson, Kiley Davis. Mark's girlfriend." I said, trying to keep a straight face as I shook her hand. She gave me a look, and Mimi said,

"Oh wow." The six of us left the party, laughing and smoking. And that was when we walked into the apartment.

"Hey, guys, all our shit's back!" I exclaimed, plopping down on one of the boxes and being steadied by Mark.

"You're welcome." said a sleazy voice, and I felt chills go up and down my spine.

"Benjamin Coffin III." I said in my best Maureen voice, and Tom laughed and slapped me on the back. "What the hell brings you to our humble abode? We were quite pleased with squatting. And we were just about to buy new furniture." I knew Benny was glaring at me, but I refused to look up at him.

"I've come to make a deal-" he started, pulling a check out of his pocket, "- you two might wanna get this down."

"Oh, I see. It's a photo opportunity." Tom and I said together, and I looked up at Benny. He looked worn down, and I felt bad for him, for a split second.

"The benevolent god ushers the poor artists back into their loft, courtesy of a friendly neighborhood CyberArts." Tom continued bitterly, and Angel grabbed his hand. He shot a resigned glance up at her, and she smiled sweetly back.

_Awwh, man..._ I thought, smiling as brightly as Angel, _They're adorable... _And then I glanced up at Mark, who was yelling at Benny and looking strained. I pulled myself up and stood next to him, wrapping one arm around his waist and the other around his shoulder.

"Go to hell, you fuck." I said calmly, and Benny only sighed.

"Alright, alright, you got me. I'll go..." I looked around, Mimi had a pleading look on her face, but Roger was having none of it. Benny was leaving. Mark looked sad. And Angel and Tom? As cute and happy as they always are. Nothing was out of place in our happy little family, only a few pieces of the puzzle missing. But we'd find them. We always do.

* * *

**Well... Yay or nay? R&R!**


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